


Dreams or Reality

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Will dreams of dead victims he can command as Hannibal’s witch, only to awaken to the sensual reality of Hannibal after falling off the cliff.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 4





	Dreams or Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the end of the series. I don’t own Hannibal but for months it has owned me. :)

Garrett Jacob Hobbs approached Hannibal, his eyes filled with a pale green light. 

“Hello, Lucifer.” He addressed Hannibal, but the dead man fixed his eyes upon Will. “What a witch you’ve found. He’s breathed a half-life into dreams and nightmares, reviving me even after he’s shot me.”

“You may not have my witch, Mr. Hobbs.” Hannibal spoke in a silky, menacing purr. “I’ve been waiting for him for far too long.”

“You knew.” Will closed his eyes, not wanting to see this, not wanting to hear this; only he couldn’t escape it. Not any more.

“Will.” Hannibal reached out to touch his arm. “Magic is nothing more than visualization, of breathing life, energy, and substance into visualizations. You may not have realized it but you’ve been doing magic all along.”

“Why does he call you Lucifer?” Will turned to gaze at him, not too directly. “You’re not the devil.”

“I was trapped in flesh until you set me free.” Hannibal leaned closer, breathing in the scent of him. “You released my power, Will, when you sent us tumbling off the cliff.”

“No.” Will opened his eyes and stared at his hands. “We’re dead. We have to be dead. There’s no other logical explanation. I don’t believe in magic. I don’t!” The hysterical note in his voice was childlike even in his own ears. 

“A reluctant witch.” Garrett Jacob Hobbs turned his head. “Powerful, even if he’s reluctant.”

“Mr. Hobbs here is your familar, Will.” Hannibal wrapped his fingers around the curve of Will’s arm. “He’s been trying to come to you, to guide you for some time now, only you dismissed him as part of your own madness.”

“You killed me, so now I’m yours.” Garrett Jacob Hobbs bowed his head, but there was the hint of a wicked smile upon his face. “I did have three chances to kill you, to break free, but you escaped each one.”

“What?” Will blinked. “What chances were these?” 

“In the circle of mushrooms with the corpses. Out in the snow-filled night with Abel Gideon.” The dead man smiled. “You slipped out of my trap both times, the reach of the corpse’s arm and the killer’s blade.”

“Those were only two times.” Will frowned at his words. 

“I imagine he shall try again,” Hannibal murmured in his ear. “And there is another dead man who serves us.”

Striding forward, surrounded by smoke and power, red wings unfurling from his back, Francis Dolarhyde marched out to face them.

“Dr. Lecter.” The Great Red Dragon bowed first to Hannibal before turning to Will. “Will. It was a stimulating last battle. I thank you.”

“This isn’t true.” Will lifted his hands to his face. “The men I…we…killed are gone. They can’t be here and now, serving us.”

“A mind palace is a curious place. The dead come and go as you please.” Hannibal pulled Will’s fingers down with the tenderest of care. “I’m sure you’ve seen Abigail here.”

Garret Jacob Hobbs jerked his head at the name of his beloved daughter, who’d inspired him to kill, even though he said nothing. 

“Why are we here?” Will whispered. 

“We are recovering. We took a bad fall. We may or may not survive.” Hannibal brushed his lips against Will’s ear. “Still I’m happy, happier than I’ve ever been to finally have you at my side.”

“I’m not on your side.” Will dropped his head, but didn’t really pull away.

“You always say that, Will, but given a choice of killers, you always choose me.” Hannibal wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him close.

“It’s true.” Francis Dolarhyde regarded him with cold, dead eyes. “You chose him, even when you should know better.”

“You chose him, even though he’s far worse than the rest of us,” Garrett Jacob Hobbs added. “Even when he’s planning to turn you into us.”

“Now you’re one of us,” Hannibal breathed in his ear. “You’re mine, Will Graham, whether you ever admit it or not.”

“No!” Will started, waking up in a sweat. Light poured in the window upon the bed. 

He was alive. He had all his limbs. He had no idea where he was. 

“With me.” Hannibal strolled into the door, looking like a softcore porn idol with his open shirt, dress pants, and a platter of tiny vegetables and meat arranged in an almost floral design on a platter. “You’re with me, Will, whether you wish to be or not.” 

Will allowed himself to go limp, unable to stop himself from drinking in the sight of Hannibal. Always the fool. “Who are we eating?”

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” Hannibal sat down upon the bed, balanced the tray between him. He picked up a small piece of what appeared to be toast covered with the vegetables and meat and offered it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be delicate about what I serve at my table now.”

Will sat up, opened his mouth, and almost bit the fingers that popped the morsel in his mouth. 

“That’s the spirit.” Hannibal smiled indulgently at him. “You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

“For what?” Will chewed, felt an exquisite explosion of saltiness, sweetness, the crunch of fresh vegetables, and the rough tenderness of meat fill his mouth. 

“For the rest of dinner.” Hannibal let his gaze roam over Will’s body. Will realized he was shirtless, in fact naked under the blankets. 

“Did we…?” Will felt his face flush. He recalled the moments back at the house on the bluffness, the heat between them after they’d spilled the Great Red Dragon’s blood.

“What do you remember?” Hannibal sat, as quiet and patient as he’d ever been as Will’s therapist, listening to him. 

“Killing the Great Red Dragon.” He looked down at the plate. Could this be Francis Dolarhyde? No, that was impossible. “Going over the cliff.”

“All of that happened.” Hannibal took one of the pieces of toast and bit into it with a slow, sensuous relish. Will found himself watching his mouth, the movement of his throat when he swallowed. 

For a moment the two of them just stared at each other. 

Hannibal put the tray aside and leaned forward. He captured Will’s lips with his own, caressed them, opened them. 

The kiss grew more intense, full-bodied, full of the taste of salt and sugar. Will leaned into Hannibal, who gathered Will to him, pressing him against him. 

They broke apart for a moment. Will looked down at Hannibal, whom he’d pinned against the bed. Hannibal smiled up at him with an almost boyish amusement. 

“What’s so funny?” Will demanded.

“Oh, I was thinking of the old joke about shag, marry, and throw off a cliff. I shagged my student, married my therapist, yet my Cliff Boy was the one who won my heart.” Hannibal grinned up at Will. “Curious that.” 

“I threw you off the cliff, you didn’t throw me,” Will said, smiling in spite of himself. The joke was as crude as Hannibal ever got. 

“In the end, it was still the cliff that won.” Hannibal pulled Will close for another long kiss. 

There was still the rest of dinner to look forward to…and dread. Will had no idea who they were eating or what awaited beyond the bedroom door. 

For now he just enjoyed the kiss.


End file.
